Last Night, Last Hunt.
Dean Winchester had protected his little brother since he was four years old and tomorrow, he was going to complete his duty by protecting him right out of the life they both shared.
He would drive his little brother Sam to Stanford.
Dean's brother been taken from him not by Dean's worst nightmare, not by one of the things that they hunted.
No, Sam, had been taken by the calling of a real life, not the John Winchester R rated version of one.
Dean watched silently as his brother finished pushing the last of his meagre possessions into the duffel bag. This was to be Sam's last night under the same roof as his brother for the foreseeable future and Dean was desperately trying to hide just how bad that was making him feel.
Dean's world was tearing apart.
Sam was chattering to him, his excitement at going to college almost a tangible thing and Dean, well Dean had his game face on trying hard to concentrate on what his brother was saying and smile or laugh in the right places, but he was struggling.
"I can't believe that tonight's our last hunt and a werewolf too, your favourite eh Dean?"
Sam zipped the bag up and then picked up the gun from the bedside table.
He didn't want to hunt, not tonight, but he knew how much his brother wanted to spend this last night together with him. Since there was no way dad was going to let both Dean and him bail on this hunt Sam had reluctantly agreed to go along, for Dean's sake.
Hunting for Sam had become torture and he couldn't wait to escape this life, no more supernatural beings pounding on him, no more lousy motel rooms or crummy apartments and best of all, no more dad always trying to tell him what to do. He just didn't know how his brother stood it, why he didn't just leave too, why he didn't just tell their father to go to hell.
"Yeah, bitchin' Sammy." Dean's voice was flat.
He was going to miss his brother; the only thing that made his life tolerable these days was the time that they spent together after the hunt, going over the night's events, Sam making him laugh no matter how bad he was feeling, usually while helping to patch him up.
He couldn't quite believe that Sam was just going to up and leave him and it hurt how little is seemed to bother him leaving Dean and their life behind. He felt happy for his brother, really happy that he had got his shot at a normal life but he was slightly bitter and resentful too that he had never gotten his chance. Dean knew that his dad had needed him, mainly to look after his little brother, and he couldn't have just walked away, couldn't have abandoned them. That just wasn't who he was.
"Sam, Dean, you boys ready?" Their father's gruff voice was accompanied by his fist pounding on the door.
"Yes, sir." The brother's answered in unison. Dean checked his own gun for about the hundredth time and then opened the door and they both walked out into the living room.
"Sam you drive."
He threw the keys at his younger son. "Dean, get the bags." Dean did as he was asked but Sam could see from his brother's demeanour the he wasn't happy, Dean usually always drove these days and he hated having to sit in the back. Sam was going to say something but his father was so wound up about this hunt and him leaving that he knew it would cause a fight and he wanted to try and spare his brother that. Dean hated John and Sam fighting and Sam figured that the least he owed his brother was not to put him in the middle of yet another Winchester head butting match, not tonight.
Dean stomped out and threw the bags in the trunk, slammed it down and climbed in the back. If Dean's fit of pique even registered with John he didn't show it, he just climbed in and then buried his head in the map, oblivious to the tension in his eldest son.
Sam looked in the mirror.
Dean was staring out the window, lost in his own thoughts, a look of utter dejection on his face. Sam watched as he quickly wiped it away when he realised that his little brother's eyes were on him.
They'd been driving for about an hour and Sam couldn't stand the silence in the car any longer.
"How long 'til we get there?" Sam tried to feign some interest in the night's events.
"I'll tell you when we get there, depends on how fast you drive really but if you keep doing this speed the daylight'll beat us. It is only ten hours away after all." The sarcasm in his father's voice raised Sam's hackles.
"It was only a question, but if you're going to bitch about my driving we can just stop here and I'll get out. You and Dean can go and hunt your furry friend alone!"
"If you didn't want to come you coulda just said, it's not like family matters mean that much to you anymore anyhow."
Dean groaned at his father's reply, the thought – here we go again- ran through his head. Sam was about to snark back when he caught Dean's face in the mirror, if ever a look said – please don't – his was it. Sam bit back his remark, floored the accelerator and concentrated on the road ahead.
The only sound that broke the silence for the rest of the journey was John barking the odd direction. You could have cut the atmosphere in the car with a knife, and not necessarily a sharp one either.
Dean couldn't wait to get out of the car and when they finally reached their destination he was out almost before the wheels had stopped turning. He walked round to the trunk and started to busy himself with the bags. It was a moment before he realised that Sam was standing there.
"Are you ok?" The concerned look in Sam's face brought Dean's emotions to a head.
"Am I ok? Let's see shall we. Dad is in a piss awful bad mood because of you, you're going through the motions tonight to please me and oh the killer, you're leaving tomorrow for god knows how long and as usual I'm getting left behind on my ass to pick up the slack. I'm great, you?"
Dean turned away unable to look at Sam, he could feel the tears welling in his eyes; he lent on the edge of the trunk and fought to keep himself under control.
Sam just stood behind him with his mouth opened, floored by the unexpected show of emotion.
John's voice shook them both from their reverie. "When you ladies have finished discussing make-up do you think we can get this thing before it turns back to a human?"
Dean walked by Sam.
"I'm sorry." His voice was so low that Sam almost missed the remark. Dean kept walking, his mind was racing, he had wanted this to go smoothly but so far it was a train wreck.
All he wanted to do now was get this night over with and go to a bar and get wasted, oblivion his only goal.
John had decided that he would go on ahead and try to catch the werewolf's attention, not happy with where either one of his son's heads were at the moment. He'd either kill it or flush it back to the boys to finish. He looked at his two boys standing together, Dean's face was totally unreadable but his whole attitude was off this evening, he just didn't seem to care and Sam, well he had that pissed off look that seemed to be permanently tattooed on his face these days.
John knew he should have left this hunt until tomorrow after Sam had gone, that they had one more night, but he'd wanted Dean fully here with him and not half here and half wondering what his brother was doing. So far that plan, though, didn't seem to have worked 'cos Dean was so lost in his own thoughts that he'd might as well as stayed in the apartment.
"Dean, son, you with us?" Dean jumped at the sound of John's voice; he pulled himself back to the here and now.
"Yes sir."
"Well stay alert ok?" Last thing John needed was Dean's head somewhere else if this thing got the jump on them.
"Yes sir." The response was robotic.
"Sam you ready?"
"Yeah." Sam stood with his shoulders hunched just staring at Dean's back. Well did you think he'd be pleased that you're leaving, really? Sam knew that Dean was proud that he had got into college but until this moment he'd never really thought about how much his brother would miss him. It's not like Dean would come straight out and tell you, you idiot.
"Ok, enthusiasm all round, great to hear." John sighed and headed off through the trees.
Sam watched his dad disappear in the woods and tried to start up a conversation with his brother.
"Dean, I'm sorry I'm leaving you I really am, but this is my big chance you know, the chance to do something with my life. I need to take it." Sam's voice was almost a plea, he needed to make his brother understand that this wasn't about him; it wasn't him that he was running away from.
"So I'm wasting mine with mine, is that what you're saying? That what dad and I do doesn't count, isn't important?" Dean wasn't really mad at his brother, he was just mad in general at the moment and Sam was the nearest target. Sam was taken aback by the anger in Dean's tone.
"No, you're twisting it, that wasn't what I meant at all."
"It's ok Sam I get it. I really do. This life isn't good enough for you, hell maybe we aren't good enough for you. It's about time I got a freakin' break from dragging your sorry ass around with me anyhow."
Dean didn't want to pick a fight with his brother but he didn't seem to be able at this moment to control his smart mouth. It had taken on a life and a mind of its own.
"I never said that you weren't good enough."
"No but we all know you're the smart one, right Sam? Why would you want to stick around with your poor, dumb brother? I mean all I do is blindly follow dad's orders, that's right isn't it, poor Dean never had an original thought of his own, never had any dreams of his own."
The emotion in Dean's voice brought tears to Sam's eyes.
"Please Dean, don't do this. Don't let's fight on our last night, please."
Dean walked away to the edge of the cliff that was behind them. "I mean Sam if I was to step off here would you even care, would you even miss me, in fact, would anyone?"
Sam was so worried by the look in his brother's eyes that he stepped between Dean and the edge. "Dean I love you, I do really, you're my brother man. You looked after me, you raised me, you were more my dad than dad was, he was never there for me Dean, you always were. Dean this is not about you, it's about me, and I have to do this."
Sam watched the anger drain from his brother. "I know Sam. It's just that…" Dean never got to finish the sentence.
John started shouting.
Dean turned just as the werewolf broke cover. He raised his gun but he already knew that it was too late.
It hit him full on.
Its head smashed into Dean's nose breaking it instantly, and its momentum lifted him from his feet and smashed him into Sam, causing them both to fall and Dean to lose his grip on his gun. Sam realised that he was in trouble; he was more than half way out over the cliff and still sliding, Dean being pushed back by the werewolf. Sam grabbed the edge just as his legs swung free from under Dean and over into space. Dean rolled as he felt Sam slid out from under him, trying to protect his exposed neck and face from the creature, and trying to help his brother.
He watched in horror as Sam disappear over, could see his brother's fingers slipping. With a tremendous effort he dragged the dead weight of the werewolf forward and lunged for his brother just as Sam's fingers disappeared. For a moment Dean thought he'd lost him.
Dean looked down and breathed again, he had caught the top of his brother's hood in his hands, Sam realising this had crossed his arms to stop the jacket sliding off and was trying to stay as still as possible not to add to Dean's burden. The cliff wall was sheer, Sam didn't have anything to grab or get purchase on.
Dean screamed as the werewolf tore at his back, its long nails slicing his jacket and his skin, digging in, slicing down through his flesh. He felt the pain threaten to take him and he tried to swallow it down, knowing that if it did his brother would be gone. He felt the werewolf's fetid breath on his neck and he knew that this was it. One bite and it would be all over. He closed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his grip on his brother knowing that, whatever happened to him, he couldn't let go.
He was barely aware of the shots ringing out, his father's voice. He felt the weight of the werewolf dragged off him and John was lying beside him. The older man desperately tried to reach Sam's hand but it was just too far away.
"Rope…..trunk…...hurry." Dean could barely get the words out. John was up in an instant. He opened the trunk, grabbed the rope and tied it round himself. Running back to his boys he lay down beside Dean again and looped the rope round the outside of Dean's arms and then tied it in a tight knot. He fed the loop down Dean's arms and over Sam's shoulders. The younger man shrugged it down and then, once it was under his arms, he unfolded them and grabbed the main line. He put his feet to the wall as John moved back pulling him back up over the edge. Once Sam's top half was back on terra firma, John lay down and grabbed his legs, swinging him back up onto the ground.
Sam touched Dean's face. "Dean, it's ok, you can let go now, I'm safe." His brother was barely conscious, but he maintained his death grip on Sam's hood, John eventually having to prise his fingers off the jacket.
Sam checked his brother's wounds. "He needs a hospital."
"No, we'll take him home, I'll tend to him."
"No, he is going to the hospital." Sam tried to lift his brother's dead weight and slide him into the car.
"Sam." Dean's voice was faint. "Home."
Sam sighed." That's right you side with him, why are you so damn scared of hospitals anyway Dean, huh? You might get a hot nurse to look after you, you know?"
"Home." Sam gave up. He heaved Dean into the backseat and slid in with him.
The journey back was more torturous that the one out. Dean gave a little cry of pain at almost every bump in the road and there sure were a lot of them. Sam cradled his brother's head in his lap, stroked his hair, tried to keep him calm. He touched Dean's back and his hand came away bloody. He's bleeding to death, should be taking him to the damn hospital. Sam tried to check his anger, concentrate on helping his brother not on fighting with his father.
John pulled into the car park at the apartment block and got out, opened the front door and then hurried back to help Sam who was dragging his brother out of the car. John caught Dean's feet as Sam pulled them clear and they carried him together into the bedroom.
Dean groaned as they laid him down on his front on the bed, he wanted to give in, to let unconsciousness claim him but his mind refused to let him. You almost killed him, took your damned eye off the ball and almost got him killed.
" 'am sorry Sam."
Sam saw John look at him. "Shh, Dean. It's ok, just relax. It's ok"
Sam didn't know what his brother was sorry for, it had been his fault. He had distracted Dean from the hunt, it was his fault that his brother was in this state and yet as usual Dean felt the need to apologise to him.
"It's alright, Dean it gonna be alright."
Dean tried to sit up but he felt a hand on his arm, someone turned his head to check the damage to his face as other hands tried to work him out of his jacket and shirt. Pain flared through him again and he gave a small cry. His shirt was caught on the drying blood, every movement of it ripping the skin on his already throbbing back. Sam felt sick when he saw just how badly his brother was injured. The claw marks where deep into his back and Sam yet again was thankful that his brother always wore layers on a hunt, if he hadn't he would have been in the hospital right now, as it was his injuries looked bad enough and that was before John had managed to cut his t-shirt off.
Dean heard Sam's voice berating his father for his rough handling of him, his father's angry reply and then he finally surrendered and let himself sink down into a blissful unawareness where for now the pain and his squabbling family couldn't reach him.
Dean woke up to a fresh wave of pain and to the sunlight that was streaming through the window. He was still face down, head turned into the sun's path through the room and he tried to roll, tried to move away from the light. He was on his side when the pain really kicked in again and he gave a little scream as something tore on his back.
"Dean. For god's sake lie still." Sam was beside him, grabbing his arm, trying to stop him sitting up.
"Help me up." His face must be a mess because it hurt like hell to talk. He squinted through his swollen eyes and took in the black eye and the cut cheekbone on Sam's face.
"You ok?" Even through the mess that was Dean's face Sam could see the concern reflecting in it.
"Dean, a werewolf tried to use you as a scratch post and you're worried about me? Just lie still will you."
"Need to pee, Sammy. Help me up, please." Dean felt Sam roll him back onto his side and then put a strong arm under his elbow. He gently took the weight as Dean sat up winching and groaning as the pain rippled through his back. Dean swung his feet off of the bed and finally got into a sitting position.
"You sure about this?" Sam's concerned face was floating in front of him.
"Yeah." HIs brother moved in closer and put his other arm under Dean's other elbow.
"This is gonna hurt." Dean nodded and Sam pulled him upright.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean's knees buckled with the pain and Sam tightened his grip to stop his brother from falling, his hands resting on Dean's sides to try and avoid touching any of the injured flesh. He knew just how badly his brother was hurting when Dean laid his head briefly on Sam's shoulder before he steadied himself.
"Need to hurry this up Sammy."
Sam walked backwards to the bathroom, gently guiding Dean until they got to the door.
"I've got it now, thanks." Dean used the wall and then the various fittings to make it to the toilet. He was grateful when Sam closed the door behind him.
Dean's head was spinning.
His back hurt, his face hurt but most of all his heart hurt. This was it. The day that his brother was leaving and he couldn't even take him now. No way he could drive in this state.
The young hunter rested his elbows on his knees and then his head on his hands. He sat and gathered his strength knowing that his brother would want to stay if Dean showed him how bad he was really hurting.
This was Sam's chance and no way was Dean going to be the cause of his brother missing the start of it, no matter how much it hurt to have him go.
Steadying himself he stood and looked in the mirror, examining the damaged to his face, hoping that none of it was permanent. He needed his face to do his job, what Sam did with words, Dean did with facial expressions. His face was what got doors opened for him. And occasionally what gets them slammed in it too. He smiled and regretted it as the ache in his nose intensified for a moment. He splashed some cold water gently on his face.
Pushing the bathroom door opened and stepping out he waved away his brother's attempts to help this time.
"It's ok, I'm good," he muttered as he walked slowly over to his duffle and started rummaging for clean clothes. "Where's dad?" Dean suddenly realised that his father was missing from this picture.
"He went to get breakfast and some more bandages for your back. He shouldn't be long."
Dean nodded; he carefully pulled his t-shirt up his arms and then quickly shrugged it over his head, swallowing the cry of pain that wanted to escape from him. Sam stepped forward to help him but again Dean stopped him.
"I'm fine Sam, honest."
"Yeh, 'cos you look it, sit down and let me help you."
"I said I'm fine." Dean's tone was narkier than he meant it to be, he altered it. "I've got it Sam really." Dean sat down on the end of the bed and gingerly bent forward to put his jeans on. The pain that shot through him caused him to double up onto his knees and that in turn increased the pain more causing a cry to escape from him. He swore softly under his breath.
"Stubborn ass. Fine are you?" Sam's anger got the best of him; he wrenched the jeans from Dean's grip and sat down beside him. He lifted Dean's feet one at a time and slipped the jeans on over them, and then standing he hauled Dean upright knowing that he was causing him pain.
"Still fine?" He asked this as Dean swayed in front of him, the pain registering in the little green of his eyes that Sam could see. Dean couldn't answer; he was unable to breathe for the moment, the pain that had torn through him at his brother's rough treatment completely robbing him of the ability to reply.
"Take it that's a yes." Sam hauled Dean's jeans all the way up and then pushed his brother back into a sitting position, winching slightly at his brother's half cry, half groan. Dean took a moment and then fastened himself. He looked at his brother saw the anger and the concern mixing in his eyes. He was about to say something when their father opened the bedroom door and came in.
"You're up." He walked over and put the food and coffee cups down on the small table in the room then picked up the first aid bag that was still lying there and pulled out a small bottle of pills. Fetching a glass of water he walked back to Dean and handed him them both.
"Take these; they'll take the edge off. Once they kick in, I'll change your dressings." Dean swallowed the pills and handed the glass back.
"Aren't you gonna ask him how he is?" Sam's face had a red tinge to it.
"He got his back ripped open by a werewolf; I think I know how he is!" John swung his back on both of them and walked over to the table thumping the glass down. "How did it get the jump on you anyway?" He turned round and stared at Dean who lowered his head despite the pain that it caused.
Sam answered. "It was my fault, we were talking….."
"You were talking?!," John roared at them. "Well I hope it was a good chat, 'cos it almost got both of you killed….or worse!" He looked at Dean as he made the comment. "Damn thing almost bite you, so tell me what the hell was so important that it couldn't wait 'til the hunt was over?"
"Why are you having a go at him I told you it was my fault!" Sam stepped up close to John forcing him to look up at him.
"Because your brother should know better, that's why."
"Why? Because he's older? The argument lost its merit a long time ago dad."
"Please. Stop it." Dean pushed himself up from the bed and tried to push his way between them. "Please." Dean grabbed Sam's shirt to steady himself causing his brother to look down at him. "Please Sam."
"Just as well you're leaving, your damn brother only seems to manage to get himself hurt when he's hunting with you." John turned to walk away but Sam reached round Dean and grabbed him.
"Just what do you mean by that? I'm not the one that takes him hunting in the first place."
"I mean that he's so busy covering for your sorry ass that he gets distracted. Hell it's not the first time that you've almost got him killed on a hunt is it? Maybe it is just better that you run off to college, leave the hunting to the real men."
Sam stepped forward and Dean thought that he was going to hit their dad. His face was scarlet and the veins on his neck were standing out.
"You're a god damn son of a bitch, do you know that?" Sam shrugged Dean off him, walked across the room and pick up his bag. He walked over to his brother. "You should go too you know, this gig it's either gonna kill you or it's gonna leave you like him, bitter and twisted. I'll see you Dean."
Sam felt his father's hand drop on his shoulder as he went to leave.
"So that's it is it, you're just gonna walk out on me and your brother? Your family means that little to you? Your selfish, d'you know that?"
Sam rounded on him. "I'm selfish... I'm selfish? You blame everything that's happened to us on the thing that destroyed mom but it wasn't it that ruined our lives, it was you, you and your god damned obsession with the thing, you destroyed this family not it. I hate you."
"Shut you mouth!" It was all John could do to stop himself hitting him, Sam's words stinging him in a place where the ring of truth to them hurt.
"Truth hurts doesn't it?"
"Get out, go on, if I'm that bad, if you hate me that much, get out and don't come back!" John turned and walked away into the other room and slammed the door effectively ending the argument.
Sam went to follow but Dean stopped him. "I think you should go." His voice was low, intentionally without any emotion.
"You're taking his side?!" Sam was now inches from his face.
"It's not about sides." It's so not about sides Sammy. No matter what I say or do you're still leaving right? Me, I've got to stay and pick up the pieces 'cos god knows that there is gonna be pieces. "You were out of line."
"The hell I'm not, you always take his side, every time. Are you that scared of him, that desperate for his approval?" Sam hitched the duffle onto his shoulder. "Goodbye Dean."
He walked out the door and slammed it shut behind him. Dean felt as if someone had taken a meat hook to him and ripped out his insides. He wanted to chase after his brother, tell him that he didn't want him to leave, especially not like this, but he wasn't able and besides it would make no difference, Sam would still go, he had to; he had a dream to follow. Dean dropped back onto the bed and crawled up it, curling up into a ball, ignoring the pain in his back now, the pain in his chest and his head now greater. He lay there until tiredness overtook him.
John waited until the room went quiet and then he walked back in to check on Dean. The sight of his usually strong, confident son lying battered and bruised, curled into a ball broke his heart.
He fetched the first aid kit and the bandages and sat down next to Dean, waking him gently. He looked into those green eyes and Dean tore him apart more with one look than all of Sam's harsh words ever could.
John wasn't quite sure that having just lost one son that he wasn't about to lose the other. The thought hit John hard but he realised that his eldest son would never leave him, would never leave for one simple reason that John had made sure of a long time ago by setting his family off on this life.
Dean would never leave him out of love and duty but mainly,... Dean would never leave him because he had nowhere else to go.
